


Creme or Gel?

by Vxier



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Dancer!Yeosang, Fluff, Hairdresser!Jongho, M/M, Nail Salon AU, Nail Tech!Seonghwa, Nail Tech!Wooyoung, Nail Tech!Yunho, Photographer!Mingi, Producer!Hongjoong, San is just gay and confused, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Wooyoung is still a cutie, Yes you read that right, but i'm splitting them up whoo, dancer!san, everyone is gay and whipped, no beta we die like men, pretty San-centric, the only thing Mingi doesn't break is his camera and yunho's heart, this is such a self indulgent fic, this was supposed to be a oneshot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-02
Updated: 2020-02-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:54:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22527406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vxier/pseuds/Vxier
Summary: “Sangie told me this was your first time?” Wooyoung was rummaging in his basket of tools, flashing a practiced smile. “We’ll start with a manicure first. Your hands please?”San’s mind tumbled around for a bit, wiping his hands against his pants before placing them before Wooyoung. Beads of sweat dampened his palm, making him worry which inevitably led to them sweating even more. Regardless, Wooyoung said nothing and ran a thumb over San's knuckles, humming to himself.“Are you nervous? It’s fine, I don’t bite.”orA nail salon AU where San goes to get his nails done and ends up leaving with more than just a manicure.
Relationships: Choi Jongho/Kang Yeosang, Choi San/Jung Wooyoung, Jeong Yunho/Song Mingi, Kim Hongjoong/Park Seonghwa
Comments: 18
Kudos: 455





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic happened because I suddenly became hyperaware while getting my nails done so here you go! 
> 
> This is my first time writing for Ateez and I'm sorry if they seem OOC! I do hope you'll enjoy this silly fic~

_It’s red this time._

San thought to himself as he walked over and leaned against the kitchen counter, a cup of coffee in hand.  His eyes fixed on a figure whisking eggs by the stove; eyebrows knitted together as if he was trying to put together pieces of a non-existent puzzle.

Hongjoong felt goosebumps run down his back. His unease stopped him from turning around to see who or what was watching him. From a distance, Mingi’s loud yawn echoed through the living room as the tall man made his way to the kitchen.  He would always stomp around the house before his daily dose of caffeine– San often compared this to a grumpy toddler.

“Appa, what’s for breakfast?”  the redhead took the cup San  graciously  poured for him as Hongjoong rolled his eyes, a fond smile threatening to break through. The sound of a door closing alerted of a fourth presence in the house.  A dazed figure wandered into the kitchen and waved with eyes half–open, trying his best to maneuver around the kitchen without bumping into anything.

“What are you cooking?” Yeosang settled next to San, leaning on the other’s shoulder as he forced his eyes open.  The sun was  barely  up and so were they, except Hongjoong who was still running on the five cups of coffee from the previous night. The sheer amount of caffeine running through that man’s blood scared San but he knew Hongjoong would come down from the high soon and pass out, considering that he  was done  with his recent project. Or at least he hopes so.

“I’m not your Appa.” the eldest waved the spatula  menacingly, “I’m making pan-fried french toast. Yeosang, crust off right?”

The brunet nodded, still half-asleep as Hongjoong handed them their respective plates. The three kids  obediently  took their seats at the dining table, munching down at the meal.  They would have starved everyday if it weren’t for Hongjoong’s cooking (and occasional nagging).

“Thank you Appa!” came a chorus of voices, Mingi’s voice shining out as the loudest.  Hongjoong could only sigh, white teeth flashing despite his attempts on keeping a straight face. San's lips pulled up through bread-filled cheeks– oh, how he loved their early morning antics.

The rest of the morning went by  peacefully  as they ate.  San was trying to listen to Yeosang and Hongjoong as they discussed their current projects, yet his mind was currently occupied with something else.

Their Hyung was always painting his pinky with nail polish as an act meant to raise awareness for a campaign. San understood that well enough. Lately, Hongjoong had started painting the rest of his fingers as well. Not only that, they looked way too good to  be done  alone.

“Hyung, did you get your nails done again?” San took a big bite of his toast, drawing the attention of the other two.

Mingi took Hongjoong’s hands to admire the new nail art.  They  were painted  a glossy black, lined with white splatters and brush strokes of a striking orange– it reminded San of the graffiti he would pass by on his way to the dance studio. Standing out amongst the others, his pinkies were a vibrant crimson, much like Mingi’s hair. The tall redhead noticed this too.

“I always knew I was your favourite son!”

“You’re not my son! We’re less than one year apart!”

San and Yeosang sat back and watched the duo’s banter as they continued with their meal. Speaking of nails, Yeosang’s were always neat. San was somewhat envious of them; his were shiny and filed into smooth ovals, unlike San’s dull and unkempt ones.

“You got your nails done too, Sangie?”

The brunet nodded, swallowing a mouthful of food. He held a hand up for San to get a good look at the manicured hands. Pretty, much like Yeosang. The dancer always took good care of his physique, San  just  didn’t expect it to extend to his hands.

“Saaaaaan, let’s get our nails done too!” Mingi latched himself on San’s arm, almost spilling coffee everywhere. San whined back as he attempted to shake the taller one off. “I’ve always wanted to do a pedicure.”

Yeosang snorted while shaking his head, “There you go again with your foot kink.”

“For the last time! I do not have a foot kink!” the redhead’s face began to burn the same shade as his hair, crossing his arms with a humph. “I was doing a photography study and it  just  HAPPENED to be on feet!”

Both San and Yeosang gave the man a smile, lips dripping with sarcasm.  Hongjoong figured he should intervene before Mingi busted out his folder of various questionable pictures again.

“The salon we go to is pretty crowded,” the eldest spoke up, looking down at his nails in thought. “Yeosang can put in a booking for two weeks time, if you two want to come along. He has connections that can help us jump the waiting list or we'll be waiting for months.”

San and Mingi turned to their dear friend with wide eyes and arched brows. The sudden surge of attention made Yeosang shrink into his seat, cheeks tinting a soft shade of pink.

“Connections?”

“Yeah? Jongho knows the manager there.”

San’s mouth formed a large “O” as he had to  physically  restrain himself from teasing the boy further. The three shared knowing looks while Yeosang looked back to his plate. Of course the almighty Jongho would have something to do with it.  If the hairdresser could buy Yeosang a whole bouquet of chocolate roses, book them a reservation at one of the best fried chicken restaurants and get him a limited edition sweater all for a "normal" dinner, of course he could get them a spot at some nail salon.  Sometimes San envied Yeosang and his ignorant bliss, which only added fuel to San's desire to tease whenever he assured the three they were _just friends._

“Since you're asking me to book, I'm assuming you're still too scared to text Seonghwa-hyung?”  Yeosang threw the question without looking up from his plate, knowing full well how San and Mingi would react  .  Namely  , how they slammed their forks on the table and gasped  dramatically.  Hongjoong could already see that yellow slip of noise complaint waving in front of his face.

“Who is this Seonghwa-hyung he’s talking about?”

“So we're getting another Appa and you didn't bother to tell me? Your favourite son?!”

“Is he pretty? Oh, oh! I bet he’s tall.”

“Does he do music too? Wait, does he sing?”

The flood of questions showed no signs of stopping and Hongjoong began to regret poking fun at Yeosang so early in the morning.

“Mi-Mingi don’t you have to do a photoshoot at 8?” the eldest squeaked, trying to make himself heard over the two.

All four heads turned to the clock, the needles jeering at them as the minute hand moved to read 07:48.

“Shit!”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was supposed to post this with part 1 yesterday but I got sidetracked oops-
> 
> Hope you'll enjoy this chapter!

Two weeks rolled by in a blur.

San  was trapped  in dance practice with Yeosang while Hongjoong locked himself in the studio for days on end.  Mingi was no less busy– completely booked, the photographer was running from place to place.  No one knew where the sudden surge of projects and deadlines came from but they sure wanted to thank the universe or gods of fate  properly; with a metal bat, as Yeosang had muttered during one of their breaks.

The house was quiet, too quiet. None of them had the energy to cause a ruckus or bug the other, most passing out once they stepped inside the house.  It was so quiet that old Mrs. Bang from across the street came up to check up on them, worried about the lack of noise from inside the house.

The boys needed a breather.

That following Saturday afternoon, the group cleared their schedules and rolled up to the nail salon, almost forgetting they had booked an appointment. San picked at the sides of his fingers as Hongjoong parked the car. Everyone but San seemed to be looking forward to it; Mingi had an extra bounce in his step while Hongjoong's eyes rinsed with new found energy.

The building was two storeys high and painted a soft brown, with a sign reading “A to Z Nails” hung in the front. It was modest from the outside, looking more café than nail salon. But, the long queue that snaked from the reception to the entrance implied otherwise.

Yeosang led them past the line of people, earning stares from left and right. At the desk, the receptionist greeted them with a bright smile and directed them up to the second floor.

On the way to the elevator, they passed areas where various customers were sat down, each with a personal nail technician tending to them.  Highschool students, middle-aged couples, office workers– people of every age and gender were sat down and getting their nails done.

_So it wasn’t just teenage girls._

San scolded himself for such narrow thinking as he stepped into the elevator, the cold metal doors closing behind him.

The next time they opened, someone was waiting for them.

“Oh! Hongjoong-ah,” the tall, dark-haired male greeted them– read: greeted Hongjoong. “and Yeosang,  just  in time. Jongho had been waiting for you since noon, he’s sitting there with Yunho.”

Mingi turned to San with a mischievous grin, nudging the dancer  subtly. So this must be the famous Seonghwa-hyung.  The technician led them to their respective seats before taking his place on the other side of the table with Hongjoong. At first glance, anyone could tell Seonghwa was good looking. The man could have  easily  swiped all the modelling jobs Mingi sent out.  San compared him to the marble statues in museums, a pair gentle eyes and an icy air around him that, so far, only thawed at the sight of their hyung.

Unfortunately for everyone else, Hongjoong had long reserved his name at the top of the list for Seonghwa’s heart. 

San and Mingi eyed the older male with an approving look, who reciprocated with a tongue click. Out of nowhere, a blue haired male appeared behind them, tapping on Mingi’s shoulder. The redhead let out a high pitched yelp and jumped back, knocking his elbow against a table.

The chaos from the unwanted surprise died down as Mingi scanned the perpetrator from head to toe.  Tall was the best word to describe his physique, with bright eyes and an  equally  bright smile that came second only to the sun.  The mellow sepia-coloured sweater he dawned on under the work apron only made his shock of blue hair stand out.

“Mingi, buddy, you’re gonna swallow a  fly  soon.” Hongjoong broke the silence, followed by Seonghwa's chuckle.

“Mingi, that’s Yunho. He’s the manager and friend I told you about.” Yeosang patted the photographer’s shoulder, who was still frozen with a gawk on his face. “You two will get along fine."

“Yeah, uhm, we actually met a few times.” Yunho chuckled, glancing down at Mingi with a bashful smile.

San didn't want to be a dick, mustering up all his willpower to not tease.  He couldn’t believe he had to watch Mingi and Yunho flaunt their lovesick selves on his poor, single soul as if Hongjoong and Seonghwa weren’t enough.

“ _Oh_ ,” Yeosang's tone curved upwards. "That makes a lot of sense,  I think  I’ve seen your picture somewhere-”

Mingi shot up like a bullet, smacking a large hand over Yeosang's mouth. The dancer peeled said hand away to smile  sweetly.

Poor Yunho looked terrified of the situation. The blue haired male tugged on the hem of Mingi's shirt with meek voice,

“Sh-shall we go?”

The two went off to a different area behind them for his pedicure, not without Mingi shooting his housemates a good ‘watch it’ gesture.  San’s lips curled into a devious smile, savouring the delicious moments of Mingi in his panicked gay glory.

Soon enough, someone slipped into the seat before him- must be the one Yeosang assigned to do his nails.  When he spun around to greet this person, the first thing he noticed was a head of lilac hair, large doe-like eyes and full lips that mirrored the pink buds growing in spring.

“San, this is Wooyoung. He’s been doing my nails for the 5 years we’ve been friends for longer so don’t worry, you’re in good hands.” Yeosang nodded at the lilac-haired boy, who grinned in return.

“Jongho and I are going to go shop for some stuff, see you later gays.”

“Make sure to buy some ointment.” Wooyoung asked, winking at his best friend. "Can't have you limping tomorrow."

“You. Shut. It.”

With that, Yeosang was gone (and presumably Jongho with him).  Now San  was left  to watch Hongjoong converse with Seonghwa as if they knew each other for years, how Mingi’s smile grew whenever Yunho spoke, and how it didn’t ease the heart pounding in his chest. With only a table between him and Wooyoung, San’s chest started itch with unease.

It felt too private, too intimate.

“Sangie told me this was your first time?” Wooyoung was rummaging in his basket of tools, flashing a practiced smile. “We’ll start with a manicure first. Your hands please?”

San’s mind tumbled around for a bit, wiping them against his pants before placing them before Wooyoung.  Beads of sweat dampened his palm, making him worry which  inevitably  led to them sweating even more. Regardless, Wooyoung said nothing and ran a thumb over his knuckles, humming to himself.

“Are you nervous? It’s fine, I don’t bite.” the technician let out a small giggle that soothed the itch. “You have  really  beautiful hands by the way, is it a dancer thing or only a you thing?”

“How did you know I was a dancer?”  San swallowed  thickly  , grateful that the last question  was brushed  over as Wooyoung busied himself work.  San’s nails  were crooked  in some places from occasional biting, hangnails present on some while scabs formed on others as a result from picking at them when he was nervous. San began to wonder what beauty Wooyoung saw in them.

“Yeosang told me everything.” Wooyoung’s hands were warm,  really  warm.  The tips of his fingers were rough,  probably  a result of handling acetone daily; San could catch a whiff of vanilla lotion beneath the smell of chemicals off of them with the small amount of distance between them. They worked with practiced precision, as if muscle memory was the only thing guiding them.

“What do you mean by everything?”

Now, one thing to know about Yeosang was that you don’t know anything about him, but he does know all about you. The boy always had an observant eye and  tightly  sealed lips. In the few years they had been living together, Yeosang had  slowly  opened up to the three of them. Whatever they knew was only the tip of the iceberg, so it made sense if Yeosang confided in Wooyoung more.

“Well, he  mostly  talks about how you four live together. How Hongjoong-hyung is your dad...or something? I’m not sure but that’s  really  cute.” Wooyoung looked up to find San smiling  fondly  at his lap, making the other beam as well. A cough alerted them, Hongjoong shooting a look from beside San where he sat. Seonghwa shook his hand and waved them off, calming the older male with a single smile.

Wooyoung took this as permission to continue.

“Also how Mingi is a photographer, despite being so clumsy.” A noise of protest came from behind the where Mingi was sitting.  The two laughed and San could have sworn Wooyoung’s stare lingered on his dimples before continuing.

“And that you have a soft spot for plushies. Especially one named...Shiber?  I believe?”

San opened his mouth to comment before Wooyoung let out another one of those devastating giggles, forcing his mouth close to listen. They sounded like the tinkling of bells, a fairy’s laugh.

“He showed me a picture of you sleeping with it. Very, _very_ cute.”

“Yeosang is going to be a dead man when we get home.” San groaned, eyes looking back to Wooyoung working. He thanked the heavens and his ears for not burning red from the ‘cute’ comment. A thought tugged on his curiosity– was Wooyoung referring to Shiber or him?

“Funny, he knew you were going to say that. So he wanted me to tell you that you’re going to be thanking him later. I’m not so sure what that means either.”

Their position allowed his gaze to trace  along the lines of  Wooyoung’s face, trying to make out the gears clicking in that pretty little head.  A comfortable silence fell on them as San took it upon himself to observe and take note of how Wooyoung’s face  was sculpted. Whoever did it was an artist, every single detail was perfect.  This included the mole under his left eye and the way locks of his hair fell when the man leaned down to trim San’s cuticles. Or the way the man’s lower lip jutted out  slightly  in concentration, muttering words reserved only to himself.

The lilac-haired male  eventually  put down his tools and nodded, pulling the lamp down towards San’s hands. The nails  were filed  into neat ovals and trimmed short. Honestly, they had never looked better.

“Now, Sangie told me you’ll be doing regular creme polish first. It won’t last very long like gel does, but since you’re still trying out it should be fine.”

San didn’t know the difference between what and what so he nodded with false determination. Fake it till you make it, that’s what Mingi always said, right?

“So, what colour would you like?”

His brain short circuits for the second time in that hour, eyes scanning every surface of the room.  San didn’t know picking a colour could give him as much anxiety that time he came in for a test after a night of out-drinking Yeosang– don’t ask him how he passed, he  was surprised  too.

“How about…purple?” San’s fingers drummed on the table, adding in a low tone “ Maybe  something like your hair, it’s a pretty colour.”

A surprised expression flashed across Wooyoung’s face, large eyes opening wider as his lips twitched to try and form words. San was beginning to think that was a bad move, leaning back  slightly  as if to brace for the worst. Seconds passed and the boy didn’t move an inch. If it weren’t for Seonghwa’s cough, they might have sat there staring at each other until the shop closed. What is it with those two and coughing?

“Can you say that again?”

“Say… what exactly?”

“Uhh, The colour! Yes, the colour.”

“Purple?”

Wooyoung flashed a bright smile, whatever awkwardness between them melted away like ice yielding under the sun's rays.

“I like the way you say it.”

He repeated once more, leaving Wooyoung giggling as the nail tech stood up.  San watched him disappear into another door before deflating onto the table, groan mimicking a dying animal. Hongjoong, who had been enjoying the show, leaned over to blow at his ear.

“Pretty like his hair, huh? Real smooth.”

San groaned again, burying his face in the fold of his arm. Seonghwa’s soft chuckle followed, “You rattled the confident Wooyoung. That’s progress. You even left him speechless with the hair comment.”

“ ‘That’s progress.’ You sound like my mom, hyung.” replied the distressed male,  just  in time as Wooyoung returned with a few bottles of nail polish in hand.

“Well!” Wooyoung started, clasping his hands. “ I think  your dear friend Mingi is going to take a while, so we have time for nail art if you’d like?”

San turned back to find Mingi smiling from ear to ear, leaning down while Yunho painted his toenails a starking lime green. Whatever they were talking about, it enveloped them in their own world. He turned to his left, the same thing as well.

_They’re hopeless._

“You can do anything you want. I trust your tastes, Wooyoung.”

Perhaps, San had made the wrong choice.

His nails  were painted  a soft halo purple, matching Wooyoung’s hair, as per request.  All was well until Wooyoung painted clouds on them, turning his nails into the afternoon sky before dusk.  Even after putting them under the drying machine two more times, San’s hands froze in place, afraid of ruining the masterpiece.

Thinking about going to dance practice tomorrow became a nightmare.

“San? Do you not like it?” Wooyoung’s lips pouted as he spoke. Warm hands touched his in concern, seeing as San had frozen with an odd look on his face.

The dancer blinked and grabbed Wooyoung’s hands, pulling them up between their chests. “What? No! No, it’s beautiful. It  really  is.” His lips quirked up into a smile as the shorter of the two sighed in relief. “It’s  just … I’m afraid of messing them up. You worked so hard on them."

Wooyoung blinked once, twice before his loud high-pitched laugh echoed throughout the floor, alerting Yunho who was walking towards them with Mingi in tow.

“Wow, they look great on you!” Yunho gave him a thumbs up and stroked Wooyoung’s head in praise. San couldn’t stop the small sting in him at the sight, he wanted to feel the soft hair under his fingers too. “Don’t worry, if they get ruined then you can always come back here. I’ll give you our store number.”

San nodded, trying to pick up his belongings with the utmost care when his phone flashed notifications from Yeosang, telling them to come home for dinner.

Speaking of dinner, where was Hongjoong?

One elevator ride later, San’s eyes  were hit  with a tooth-rotting sight that made him shake Mingi’s arm,  violently.  A familiar figure with silver hair was leaning against the cashier counter, eyes crinkling from the wide smile on his face. Hongjoong was too busy rubbing circles on the back of Seonghwa’s hand to notice the ‘ting!’ of the elevator doors.  The look on the technician’s face was spilling with adoration as he whispered something to Hongjoong, erupting into giggles.

The world was theirs until Wooyoung cleared his throat, adding a cough for extra measure.  The pair shot away from each other; Seonghwa looked down and feigned writing something while Hongjoong ran a hand through his silver hair.

“You guys are finally done. Good, let’s go home then.”

“Hmm, sorry we couldn’t take longer.” Mingi grinned, “So are we getting a mom now?” the redhead asked in a quieter tone, something San didn’t think he was capable of. Hongjoong smacked his arm as they chased each other out of the store.

“Ah, The bill-”

“Don’t worry, Joong paid already.” Seonghwa assured him, a faint tint of pink still present on his cheeks and ears. The dancer gave them his final thanks, turning to leave after Yunho handed him a business card.

San was buzzing when Wooyoung walked him out, glad he got to touch those warm hands for the final time until god knows when.  The technician smiled to himself as he checked on the nails again, although San hoped it could have been something else.

“Come back soon, okay?”

As if it wasn’t obvious enough, San nodded before departing.

The three arrived at the house by seven, greeted by a table of food and Yeosang waiting for them at the dinner table. He looked more disheveled than he did when they last saw him. Yeosang’s lips  were red  and swollen, hair sticking out in odd places as if he had  just  woken up. Mingi pranced around him with a slight glint in his eyes, to which Yeosang raised an eyebrow at.

“What?”

“Shopping huh? Shopped so hard you got a hickey?”

Yeosang shot a scandalized look, hand shooting up to his neck while the three took off their coats and sat down but not without cooing and laughing  .  San moved  slowly, pulling the chair with his leg and being extra extra careful so his hands would not knock against the table or the cutlery.  The eldest of the four stroked Yeosang’s hair, trying to soothe the anger in the male before he deprived Mingi of his fried chicken privileges for dinner.

“So did you get his number, San?”  the fellow dancer diverted the attention to him instead, ignoring Mingi’s attempts at  half-heartedly  apologizing. San quirked his head to the side in confusion.

“Yunho gave me a business card for the next time.” he replied, head tilting further when Yeosang sighed in exasperation.

“I meant Wooyoung’s number, dummy.”

A large “O” formed with his mouth. San looked down at his lilac nails, watching the clouds float when a white blob caught his attention. Taking a closer look, he wondered, how did he miss it before?

Nestled amongst the clouds on his right middle finger, was a small white heart.

San didn’t realize the face he was making as the three other males looked at each other with a knowing look.

“You could have called Wooyoung to book him  directly  .” Hongjoong stated,  subconsciously  looking down at his own nails as well. A loud rumble from San’s stomach broke him out of his trance to take a big bite out of his chicken.

“Isn’t he friends with you, Yeosang? Can’t you send me his number?”

“Absolutely  not.” Yeosang crossed his arms, wagging a finger. “You’re going to have to work for this one.”

“What? I’m gonna tell on you to Jongho!”

“You wouldn’t dare."

“Watch me.”

Yeosang was right, San didn't dare. He had to will this one out on his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading this far! I'd love to hear your feedback~
> 
> The next part might be one of my favourite parts to write so I hope you'll look forward to it :D


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo this chapter took a while to edit lmao sorry about that!  
> I hope y'all will enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it :D!

San did not know what reaction his new nails would invoke, but it certainly wasn’t this.

Not how the whole dance studio was crowded around him, each and every one grabbing his hands for a closer look, talking about how San rocked them. Many of his fellow dancers asked about the salon and the technician who did it; Sure, he was glad to give the number printed on the card Yunho gave him, but kept Wooyoung’s name to himself.

Yeosang caught on when some of them complained about how San dodged all the questions about the artist behind the masterpiece. The brunet nodded in politeness, flashing a grin at San once in a while. 

Despite his attempts to preserve the art, San got so lost in dancing– He couldn’t help himself. San was no longer _San_ when the music started. All he knew was the beat pounding from the speakers and in his chest, the world tuned out into white noise and his body moved on its own rhythm. Needless to say, he got carried away.

It took him less than a week when he collapsed on the couch, whining into Hongjoong’s lap as he held his hands up to show the eldest.

“It’s all ruined,” Hongjoong stated the obvious, trying not to wince at the horrendous sight. Most of the paint had chipped off, leaving behind a cracked sky. The scabs on his hands had been replaced with lines of pink skin in the middle of healing that gave them some kind of raw look. Yellow bruises formed on San’s knuckles where he had rolled around and landed harshly during practice. The sight was enough to make Hongjoong hiss as he shook his head, patting San’s in an attempt to comfort.

“How do you keep them like that, Hyung? How do you keep them so nice?”

Hongjoong’s own nails were still pretty and pristine, just slightly longer. San could have blamed his profession for his messed up nails but Yeosang was living proof of otherwise. Shrugging, the producer flicked San in the forehead.

“Maybe because I don’t get possessed when the music comes on.”

“Liar! Mingi and I caught you staying up for 3 days straight when you were working on that one song.” San retaliated through lips jutting out in defiance. Caught red handed, the older male had resorted to fiddling with his phone instead, smiling at the screen when a notification beeped. San allowed himself to roll his eyes– damn, he wanted to see Wooyoung again.

“Hey, how did you get Seonghwa hyung’s number anyways?”

The question earned a raised eyebrow before Hongjoong tore his focus away from the screen. A baffled smile grew on his cheeks.

“I just asked him. It’s not that hard, San.”

Not that hard? The dancer scoffed, crossing his arms. How could it not be hard when it’s Wooyoung they’re talking about-a literal angel sent down to paint the skies and bless him with his soft hands and adorable laugh.

“That’s easy to say when he’s already head over heels for you.”

At that moment, Hongjoong’s phone slipped out of his hands and straight down at San’s face. Luckily, he rolled off the eldest’ lap just in time, not without an ear-piercing yelp. This alerted Yeosang who had barely locked the door behind him when he heard the scream of a murder victim in their living room. The brunet dashed into the living room with wide eyes, only to see San lying on the carpet.

“We’re just close friends. Seonghwa probably doesn’t like me that way.” Hongjoong had not realized the third presence in the room and muttered to himself. Delicate hands ran through his silver hair as Hongjoong smiled sadly. 

Yeosang looked ready to chuck his gym bag at the two for worrying him. San collected himself off the floor to place a hand on Hongjoong’s shoulder. There was pity in his dark eyes.

Not because Seonghwa doesn’t like Hongjoong, he totally does, but for how blind their Hyung was. 

“Why don’t you two go there next week and confirm everything that needs to be confirmed, hmm?” Yeosang dropped his bag by the couch to announce his arrival and took a seat beside San.

Finally, someone with an idea.

* * *

Walking up to the building, San tried to recall when was it ever this ominous. If it weren’t for Hongjoong tugging at his sleeve, San would have chickened out and gone home.

The receptionist was the same young lady from before and recognized the two immediately. 

“Seonghwa was waiting for you since lunch!” her eyes turned into two crescent moons when Hongjoong walked up to the desk, earning a cheeky grin from San. The producer was eager to walk away from the situation and tried not to floor it when she directed them to go upstairs.

The elevator door opened with a ‘ting!' and the two walked in. Like before, Seonghwa could be found rearranging some bottles of polish near the elevator door. The tall male turned at the sound, Wooyoung following suit beside him as their faces lit up at the sight of the two.

“San! Welcome back.” Wooyoung skipped towards him with his basket of tools. San was taken aback when the male grabbed his hands so abruptly, rendering him speechless as the technician pulled them up for inspection. A pang of guilt hit him to see Wooyoung’s eyebrows furrow upon seeing his nails.

The lilac haired male pulled him over to his seat before sighing, “What in the world have you been doing? Your pretty hands! They’re bruised all over!” 

San didn’t know what expression he had on then, but it made Wooyoung stare a little longer as he awaited an answer.

“You’re worrying about me now?”

“Yeah? What about it?” The tech stuck out his little tongue and San felt like he was shot up to space, all the air was knocked out of his lungs. He couldn’t help the smile that tore his cheeks into two nor the heat rising to his ears.

Wooyoung started with cleaning whatever remained of the wreckage that was San’s previous manicure. At the very least, it allowed San to embed the image of a very concentrated Wooyoung into his mind, skilled hands were as soft as he remembered. Although something scratched onto San’s skin while Wooyoung massaged lotion onto his palms.

San stopped Wooyoung from kneading further, taking hold of the technician’s hand and turning them over. As he predicted, a few cuts trailed on Wooyoung’s thumb and index finger. Small red lines that had healed quite well, but left small bumps where a scab was picked off– they mirrored the ones he got while dancing.

“How did you get hurt?” San asked in a hushed tone, sliding a thumb over the cuts. Wooyoung let out a choke and San released the hold he had on the other, apologizing faster than Wooyoung can explain. He smacked himself in his head for faltering like that; A voice in his head mocked him for doing such a thing that could creep Wooyoung out.

“No, no! It’s fine, Sannie.” Wooyoung flashed another one of those goddamn smiles and San exhaled softly. San wasn’t expecting to get a nickname on their second meeting but was he complaining? Absolutely not. He tried to not let the nickname get to his head, convincing himself that Wooyoung was this friendly with everyone.

“I was trying to cook something for Seonghwa-hyung but I got distracted when we were talking. He patched me up already, don’t worry!”

San nodded, it didn’t help with the itching feeling in his chest though. Wooyoung was already diving back to work, clipping and filing San’s nails. San glanced to his right and spotted a head of silver just three tables away. In front of Hongjoong sat Seonghwa, of course, who seemed to be laughing at something the eldest said. 

“You and Seonghwa hang out often? Outside of the shop, I mean.” 

“We live together.” 

San choked on air, causing Wooyoung to jump from the sudden movement. The technician frantically looked for any signs that he might have clipped the nails too short before San shook his head and assured him all was fine.

Except it wasn’t fine.

Two gorgeous human beings living together? Dangerous.

“You… You two live together?”

“Yeah? Our families were pretty close so he moved in with me when he came to Seoul. He’s like my second mom.” Wooyoung took in a big breath after the little scare.“Yeosang didn’t tell you?”

“Ah, well Yeosang has been keeping a lot of things to himself lately.” San let himself lean closer, resting his chin on his free hand while Wooyoung worked on the other. The male took a shaky inhale to muster up his courage; the gentle scent of vanilla with a subtle sting of acetone, now becoming familiar, helped calm his nerves.

“Done!” San’s train of thought was broken when Wooyoung nodded down at his handiwork, “Okay, now what colour will you be doing today, Sannie?”

San pondered on the question for a while. Like the first time, he had come empty handed and unprepared. The only difference this time was that his wit was prepared and not inhibited by Wooyoung’s charms.

“Why don’t you pick for me this time? I trust you.” 

The last part came out in a deeper tone, one San didn’t mean to do. He himself got shivers from it, especially after seeing the way Wooyoung’s cheeks flushed red. The technician mumbled to himself, eyes darting back and forth from San’s face to his hands, tapping on his chin before a bulb lit above his head.

“I know just the thing. But you’ll have to wait until the end to see.”

San hated surprises but liked the sound of that, or perhaps he simply liked the sound of an excited Wooyoung. 

“First, creme polish or gel? I’d recommend gel polish since it lasts longer.” Wooyoung slid his fingers under San’s, lightly stroking the freshly filed nails. “You really go hard when dancing huh? Sangie showed me some of your practice videos.”

“Oh?” A sudden surge of confidence overtook San at the thought of Wooyoung watching him dance. He knew he was good at what he does, he knew the effect he had on other people. San lessened the distance between them even more, as much as the table would allow him to. He wanted to know if Wooyoung reacted the same way as the others.

“What do you think about them?”

“I-” Wooyoung’s voice shot an octave higher, forcing him to clear his throat before trying again. “I think you should put on more clothes next time. And also, go with gel.”

San sighed, “But I won’t get to see you as often.”

Now it was Wooyoung’s turn to choke on nothing. The technicians and their customers beside the two shot worried looks that only fueled San’s satisfaction. He knew full well that this wave of confidence would not last long, but hell, he was going to ride it to the end.

Wooyoung’s face was beet red when he recollected himself, kicking San’s shin under the table.

“You don’t have to go through such lengths you know? Just hurry up and ask for my number.”

There was a pause where they stared at each other with straight faces before bursting into fits of giggles. San felt his heart swell as their laughs dialed down into shared smiles, gazes lingering until Wooyoung willed himself back to work before Seonghwa could catch him slipping.

In the end, San stubbornly stuck with normal polish, much to Wooyoung’s dismay.

For the past hour or so, the two filled the silence by whispering little stories about their friends and did their best to not bother everyone else with their reactions. San tried to peek at what Wooyoung was doing but the other obstructed his view with his arm. Wooyoung even went as much as ordering San to close his eyes when they had to use the drying machine. The dancer could have easily snuck a look but for Wooyoung, he’ll behave.

The clock struck four when they were finally finished. Wooyoung made San close his eyes before the final reveal, giggling to himself before giving him permission to look.

San learnt quickly that trusting Wooyoung was a great idea.

Four of his nails on each hand glinted jet black, white cracks running through them like marble. His two ring fingers were painted white with black cracks to contrast against the other fingers. Splashes of gold added an extra umph to them, making both San and his nails look expensive.

A whistle sounded behind him. Hongjoong and Seonghwa loomed over San’s chair, looking down at the magnificent piece. Seonghwa nodded with raised eyebrows, Hongjoong unknowingly synced up to do the same.

“You haven’t done marble nails in a while, Woo, what changed?” the dark haired technician asked, “and I thought you’d only do them for gel?”

“Wait why?” San’s head quirked up, finally looking at something other than Wooyoung or his nails.

Seonghwa casted a look at Wooyoung before answering, “Well, marble nails are a pain to do. So if you did it for gel, they’d at least last for a month. It was more ‘worth it’, considering the effort and result.”

“Also, don’t you think these nails match San’s hair?” Hongjoong added, patting the younger’s head. It was true, San’s hair was black apart from the single streak of white running down his forehead. San had, as Mingi called it, ‘pie-chart’ hair.

Wooyoung nodded, an excited spark lighting in his eyes when someone finally noticed.

“Last time you did something like my hair, so this time I did yours.” 

“Wooyoung wow, I… I kind of feel bad for not going with gel now..”

San could already feel the guilt weighing down on his shoulders from the inevitable ruin of Wooyoung’s masterpiece _again_. The lilac-haired male shook his head, thumbs running over the valleys and mountains of San’s slender hands.

“I’ll redo them as much as you want so just dance, Sannie, don’t sweat it. In return, send me another one of your practice videos.”

“Why? So you can see me shirtless again?”

San got a smack for that. God, even the pain added to the list of things Wooyoung did that made San smile. He certainly hoped it wouldn't awaken anything in him.

_That’s right, Wooyoung’s number._

_Okay._

When the group arrived at the receptionist’s desk, San was repeatedly wiping his hands dry against his pants. Hongjoong handled the bill as per usual, using the time to chat with the gorgeous, dark-haired technician he seemed to always go back to. Wooyoung trailed behind them with hands folded behind his back. The shorter male was tapping his foot in anticipation, purposely avoiding San’s look.

_Alright, now or never._

The dancer walked over, fishing his phone from his pocket. It was crystal clear how Wooyoung bit back a smile as he moved closer and closer.

“Yes?” an innocent voice asked, contrasting to the cheeky expression Wooyoung was sporting.

“How long do you think these will last this time?” San kicked himself in his mind for beating around the bush.

_Come on, get it together._

Wooyoung took the phone from San’s hand, rolling his eyes while his cheeks pulled up into a blinding grin. “Why yes, San. I would love to give you my number. Because that is what you walked here for, right?”

San suddenly found the floor very interesting, leaning on the heels of his feet as Wooyoung finished miscalling his number. When San got his phone back, the first thing he did was look through the call logs.

Wooyoung had saved himself as “Jung Wooyoung” with a little smiley emoji on the side and it was enough to melt San into a puddle.

_Who allowed this? Who gave Wooyoung such power?_

Their time was cut short when San heard Hongjoong holler for him from outside the store. Wooyoung let out a soft chuckle as San took way too long to wave him goodbye, physically pushing him out of the store before Hongjoong had to get out of the car again. The last thing he heard before the doors closed was Wooyoung’s high pitched laughter and he wished he could have tattooed it into his brain.

Once in the car, Hongjoong waggled his eyebrows and San deflated back to his old self. The pounding in his chest was relentless. He couldn’t believe he managed to flirt and get the prettiest boy’s number. It felt like a fever dream.

“I did it hyung. I got his number.” San pulled the collar of his shirt up to cover his face as the largest smile crept onto his face. Hongjoong nodded in pride, 

“Now all you have to do was call him.”

“What?”

San flattened his collar and sat up straight. Call? Who does that these days? San gave Hongjoong a perplexed look as he pulled out his phone. The name on the screen was enough to turn San into another mess, fingers hovering above the keyboard for a second before typing.

 **Contact Name** **:** _Jung Wooyoung_ **|**

 **Contact Name:** _Jung Wooy_ **|**

 **Contact Name:** _Jung W_ **|**

 **Contact Name:** _Ju_ **|**

 **Contact Name:** _Mine_ **|**

 **Contact Name:** _Mine <3_ **|**

 **Contact Name:** _Mine_ **|**

 **Contact Name:** _Mine?_ **|**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We love a panicked gay. Or, well, multiple panicked gays.  
> Next chap is the final one so stay tuned~


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long!!  
> School has been a drag and I kept rewriting the chapter cause it just didn't feel right ;w;
> 
> Anyways, here's the finale!  
> What's going to happen hoho? >;3

At this point, San had his phone superglued to his hand.

It was far too early in the morning yet the dancer was already bouncing around the kitchen, fixing himself breakfast as opposed to waiting for Hongjoong to get up. Yeosang quirked an eyebrow when San left without another word.

Was he partly to blame?

Yet it wasn’t  just  San.  In the middle of the night, Yeosang could hear Mingi’s laugh down the hallway followed by a voice asking again and again if his roommates would wake up. He appreciated the sentiment and would have ignored it if the walls weren’t so thin.

Perhaps  there was hope with the eldest, Yeosang thought.

Yeosang often found Hongjoong smiling down at his screen, more than usual, muttering the words he was too much of a coward to use in person. Sometimes he would sigh  dreamily, other times his leg would bounce and shake the table until Yeosang asked what’s the matter.

“He’s too good for me.” Hongjoong would groan.

Yeosang loved all three of them  dearly  but was beginning to contemplate locking them up with their respective distractions. This relayed to Jongho, who got earfuls from his daily complaints.

“They  probably  miss each other.” Offered the younger, flashing a piteous smile through the phone screen. “Ah, the hyungs and I are planning to go for K-BBQ this weekend, why don’t you and the rest come along?”

The brunet rolled his lips in thought, missing the fondness in Jongho’s gaze.

“You sure?”

“They wouldn’t mind, I’m sure we’re actually doing them a favour.”

* * *

“Meat! Meat! Meat! Meat!”

Mingi and San chanted in unison from the moment they stepped out of the house all the way to the restaurant. Hongjoong had long given up on silencing the two toddlers and hung on to the thought of the feast ahead. Grilled beef, kimchi stew, sizzling pork– the images fueled them to pick up their pace.

Upon arrival, San looked around for signs of the other four. “Did we come to early? Wooyoung said he arrived alrea-”

San stumbled forwards when a sudden weight hit him from behind. The male let out a loud screech, heart lurching out of his chest.  He whipped around to find Wooyoung doubled over in laughter, proud of himself, while the others took amusement in seeing San’s reaction.

“You’re late.” the technician said, earning a pinch on the cheek as retaliation. San wasn’t surprised to find that Wooyoung’s skin was as smooth as a pearl, soft to the touch.

Alas, the grumble of his stomach called for them to enter. The others had settled down along a large table, busying themselves over the menu.

San cursed his luck.

To his right, Mingi and Yunho bursted into loud conversations and laughter. To his left, Yeosang was chatting  softly  with Jongho, sharing words only audible to the two.  Wooyoung sat  directly  across from him, pinched between Hongjoong and Seonghwa who were too busy stealing glances at the other to notice Wooyoung's distress.

“So, Yunho…” San grew antsy at feeling of Wooyoung's foot nudging his own, an invitation to play, and tried to distract himself, “You haven’t told us how you and Mingi met?”

6 pairs of eyes shifted to the blue-haired giant, who  slowly  turned to the red-head next to him. Mingi scanned the group  warily  before stuffing himself with a side dish, muffling out how good it was.

“We have a mutual friend who introduced me to Mingi when he needed some help.”

Wooyoung nudged him again before he elbowed Mingi for his side of the story. The photographer gulped down the lump of food before adding, “Hmm? Oh yeah, he  just  modeled for me a few times. No big deal.”

Oh, it was a big deal alright. The multitude of Yunho’s photos plastered on Mingi’s bedroom wall was a big deal.  It was teetering between the fine line of creepy and romantic. He always kept a photo of all the models he had worked on for future reference– However, Yunho’s outnumber the others by a long shot, blue hair sticking out amongst the other pieces like a sore thumb.

Two waiters arrived with their food before any of them could pry more into the pair’s meetings.  San noticed Yunho’s shoulder dropping in relief, picking up his chopsticks before shooting Mingi a small smile. Embers roared a bright orange as the meat landed on the grill with a sharp sizzle. Soup and other dishes followed not long after as the group started chowing down.

San snatched up a slice of beef before they ran out considering how  quickly  the dishes  were cleared  up.  Just  as he brought it up to his mouth, San took a double take, placing the meat on Wooyoung’s bowl of steaming rice.

The dancer looked around, grateful the others were all preoccupied with filling their stomachs. Wooyoung’s eyes turned into little crescents as he nudged the male's foot, muttering his thanks. San's heart did a flip, nibbling on his chopsticks.  From beside the technician, Seonghwa nodded without meeting his eyes, feigning ignorance and San wanted to hide.

Somewhere during the meal, the boys began to share tales of their daily adventures of navigating through work and life. Laughter, teasing, shock and more erupted from the table; San had to stop eating a few times  as to  not choke on his food.

“He asked ME to fix his nails after being such an ass! Could you imagine?” Wooyoung huffed, taking another sip of his soju.  Mingi continued the train of stories with some of the weirder photoshoots he had to do which left Yunho laughing with his whole body.  Even Seonghwa, who San had thought was all prim and tight lipped, had a few tales of horrific customers himself– ones that made tears prick the corner of their eyes from how absurd they were.

San figured he might as well share one of his too.

“Yeosang kicked me in the face once during practice.”

“Wh-” the brunet choked on his drink,”That was an accident!”

Jongho grinned behind Yeosang, stroking his back. Drunk Yeosang was always ready to start a fight, one that sober Yeosang would regret the next day and Jongho knew this. Wooyoung had one of his signature grins on his face and San guessed it meant either trouble or a the start of a fun night.

“So, was that one time I caught you and Jongho in Gangnam an accident too, Sangie?” Wooyoung’s voice dripped with sugar, eerily similar to the way Yeosang teased them at home. "Or were you smooching some other guy now?"

“Or when we came back from the nail salon and you had that hickey?” Mingi added, “Oh, sorry, I meant that mosquito bite.”

The redhead took cover behind Yunho’s large frame, peering out from behind his broad shoulders. Yeosang’s face  was ironed  flat, completely blank yet the glint eyes suggested he was ready to castrate a man.

If it weren’t for Jongho holding his hand, Mingi might have lost his goods.

“Oh yeah? What about your foot kink, Mingi?”

“HEY!”

After the meal, San learnt that the word ‘loud’ would never be enough to describe the eight of them together.  Once the food was gone and all the bottles sipped dry, Seonghwa paid for everything despite the boys' protests. He couldn’t help but wince at the waitress’ sigh of relief when the group walked out in a single file.

“So, where to now?” Wooyoung stretched his arms to the sky, shirt tugging along to expose a brief flash of skin. San swallowed  thickly  and tried not to stare.  His hand shot forwards to pull the hem of Wooyoung’s shirt down as the other erupted into his signature high-pitched laugh.

As they were discussing, Jongho was the first to clear his throat, bouncing the brunet he carried on his back. Yeosang groaned from where he sat, nuzzling his face against the back of Jongho’s neck to block out the bright streetlights hurting his eyes.

Hongjoong had warned Yeosang to tone down the drinks.

“I don’t want to be sober when Mingi and Yunho make out.” Yeosang had replied, downing another shot before falling asleep on Jongho’s shoulder the next minute.

“We’ll be taking our leave then, good night hyungs.” muttered the youngest, flashing them a polite smile.  Everyone waved, watching as Jongho got into a cab after placing Yeosang in  gingerly; San knew his friend was in the best possible hands.  Jongho had not touched a single drop throughout the night and the fond look he reserved for Yeosang was enough proof that the youngest would take good care of him.

“I’ll be going to Yunho’s then,” Mingi clasped his hands,“ We have a photoshoot to do.”

This drew the attention of one confused Seonghwa and one exasperated Hongjoong. San went in for a fist-bump before the two walked off  eagerly . Yunho bid them farewell, eyes pinned to the floor with a bashful smile.

Once the two were out of earshot, Seonghwa turned to the remaining three, “Photoshoot? At this hour?”

“They're shooting more than a picture, Hwa.” Hongjoong placed a hand on the taller male’s shoulder, shaking his head at a grinning with San.

"What? A video?" 

San snickered at Hongjoong, who tried to explain it in the least explicit way possible. Wooyoung only took 3 seconds to put two and two together, jumping up and down in his success. To control himself, Wooyoung turned to grab San’s arm as an anchor, shaking it  furiously.

“ _Oh-_ “ Seonghwa coughed as he tried to regain his composure.  The eldest checked his phone before turning to Hongjoong, blowing a puff of air from the cold weather, “Should we be on our way too?”

San arched an eyebrow at the two.

“Oh yeah, Seonghwa is coming to the house with us.” Hongjoong beckoned for the two to follow, “You can tag along, Wooyoung.”

San glanced down at the boy still attached to his arm and chewed his lip.  The dancer cursed himself for not cleaning up his room that morning, the thought of Wooyoung seeing his shipwreck of a room placed a frown on his face.

“What are you planning to do at home?”

“I want to show him a song I was working on.” Hongjoong smiled, “We won’t be loud, I promise.”

San’s mouth formed a large “O”, nodding as he tapped at Wooyoung’s hands and took a step back.  The lilac-haired male looked up with a raised eyebrow,  easily  catching up and playing along.

“San and I were planning to… play video games back at our place!  Just  text me when you get home, Seonghwa-hyung.” Wooyoung chirped up, ”Go spend a night with Appa.”

“ _Appa?_ ”

San winked at the beet-red eldest, “Remember your words, hyung. Think of the neighbours!”

San felt a tug and soon they were fleeing from their senior's nags, feet landing  heavily  on the pavement as Wooyoung pulled him around the corner.  Hongjoong’s embarrassed protest faded into the distance, replaced with Wooyoung’s hearty laugh.

San wished he could engrave that beautiful sound into his head forever.

The next minute, San and Wooyoung were chasing each other up the sidewalk leading to an apartment block. Foam stuck on San’s nose where Wooyoung had nudged him as he took a sip of his hazelnut latte. The shorter male let out an ear-piercing shriek when San caught onto him, threatening to bite the male’s ear.

A cold gust of wind pushed them into the apartment, steaming drinks in hand.  Wooyoung had the brilliant idea for a quick stop for some warm drinks, both to and flush the alcohol out of their systems and fight the chilly night . San knew he would oblige the technician's every wish. Wooyoung grabbed his freezing fingertips as they entered a modest coffee shop.

There, the dancer learnt of Wooyoung's insatiable need for sugar.

_Caramel frapuccino with two pumps of syrup and extra drizzle–_ The thought of such a drink made his teeth ache, but the way Wooyoung’s eyes twinkled at the first sip subsided those thoughts.

A comfortable silence enveloped the two as they crossed the apartment's quiet hallways. San tailed behind as the door opened with a beep, the other ushering San in with hushed giggles.

Wooyoung turned on some of the lights, tossing his things on a counter while San toed his shoes off at the entrance.  The living room was spacious, still looking empty even with the large couches and coffee table. San stood  idly  to the side, scanning the home before Wooyoung sat down and patted the space beside him.

“Nervous?” Wooyoung took a long slurp of his drink, “Don’t worry, _Appa_ isn’t home.”

“You make it sound as if we’re going to wreck your house.” San quirked an eyebrow, lips tugged at the sides of his face as he set his empty cup down on the coffee table. Wooyoung fished around amongst the cushions and pulled out a remote.  The voices coming from the television blurred into one in San’s head when all he could focus on was how gorgeous Wooyoung looked in the dim lights.

Wooyoung’s lips moved yet San couldn't make out the words. He was aware when the other turned his head and smiled at him, yet he couldn’t break out from the trance. Warmth bloomed inside him– perhaps, the alcohol wasn’t completely gone from his head after all.

“Sannie?” Wooyoung’s voice asked a third time, succeeding in pulling him out, “You want some water?”

Shaking his head, San lied and said that he was sleepy when he was so far from that. Wooyoung nodded with a half-hearted hum.

“Sannie, are you still drunk?”

“No.” San answered too  quickly. He wasn’t sure if it was a lie, too preoccupied with the heart that was pounding in his ears.

“Hmm...  “ Wooyoung hummed again, knowing better than to push the subject, and leaned forward to take San’s hands from his lap,"Hey, they aren’t completely destroyed. Good job.”

The dancer looked down at his nails so he wouldn’t get caught in Wooyoung’s eyes,“Thanks?”

His skin tingled where Wooyoung traced with his rough fingers, hands limp in the other’s hold. San grew to love how warm they were, how gentle.

It wasn’t gentle in a sense that San felt fragile or weak.

He felt treasured.

“Hold on, let me clean them up.”

The lilac-haired boy pushed himself off the couch, disappearing down the hallway before returning with a bottle of blue liquid and some cotton pads.  San stopped breathing when Wooyoung turned him to the side, sitting face to face with their knees touching. As if he was still unsatisfied, Wooyoung spread his legs and placed them next to San’s sides to move closer.

“Hope you don’t mind,” Wooyoung scratched the back of his neck. He seemed to pay no mind to San’s distress, holding a hand out, “It’s easier this way.”

San shook his head,  barely  squeaking out a reply as he placed his hands in Wooyoung’s. The technician got to work cleaning up the scraped polish, humming a soft melody. His bright eyes squinted at the more stubborn spots, a pout forming that tugged on his heart strings.

The dancer thanked Wooyoung for cutting through the tension with his idle small talk. At the very least, San could distract himself from the subtle squeeze around his hand. Acetone stung his nose yet he felt at ease- it smelled like the salon, it was the same smell on the day the dancer met an angel.

The technician pulled San's hand up closer to his face and for a second, San thought he was going to feel Wooyoung's lips on them. He exhaled  sharply, chewing on the inside of his cheek.

“Do you do this with all your customers?” San was too slow to bite back the words that spilled out of his mouth. Curse the alcohol for giving him courage.

Wooyoung’s movements slowed down, wary eyes looking up at him “What...What do you mean, Sannie?”

The dancer wished he could rewind the last 15 seconds.

”The hand touching, the texts, even that little foot fight we had under the table during dinner?”  San had not planned on letting his thoughts out of the basement of his mind so early– His cup was overflowing and his brain was a faulty faucet.

Wooyoung’s gaze stuck on the wooden floorboards, his hands had stopped stroking San’s and the dancer missed them already.

The dancer flinched when he realized how glassy Wooyoung's usually bright eyes were.

San said it all wrong and now Wooyoung worried he overstepped his limits.

A low chuckle broke the air and the technician retracted his hands.

“I...I must be drunk, sorry,” the tech moved to get away, standing up from where he sat.  Wooyoung flashed a practiced smile and took a step for the kitchen when a pair of arms wrapped around him, keeping him in place.

“San?”

“Wait! Wait...let me start over.”  he tightened the hold around Wooyoung’s small waist until the other relaxed, placing a rough hand on his head.

“I meant, you’re so friendly with everyone and I..”

“San? Wait, I don't-”

“I don’t want to misunderstand anything cause you’re such a great guy and-”

“San, look at me.”

“And you’re always so nice and fun to be around and  maybe  I got too into my head so-”

“San.”

“God, I’m rambling,  I think  I’m drunk too. You’re  just  so surreal and I can’t understand why you’d do  all of  this to someone like me-"

“Choi San!”

The dancer’s head shot up to meet a pair of deep, warm eyes. Wooyoung took the chance to grab San’s face before he could turn away.  San braced himself as his heart went a million miles an hour, mind setting on fire yet all he could think of was Wooyoung, Wooyoung, Wooyoung.

His lashes, the mole under his eye, the way his eyebrows furrowed. The way the corners of his eyes crinkled whenever he graced the world with his smile. How Wooyoung always texted good morning first. How his thumb was stroking San’s cheek. How he was leaning down towards San’s face.

“Yes?” San breathed out.

“ _Can I kiss you?_ ”

Wooyoung was so close, way too close, that San could feel warm breath against his lips.  San’s cloudy eyes fell to how the other’s lips parted  slightly, wondering what they tasted like. _Yearned_ to know what they tasted like.

“ Please- ” was all San could manage before moving upwards, closing what remained of the distance between them.

_Caramel frapuccino, two pumps of syrup and extra drizzle._

That’s what they tasted like.

Wooyoung giggled in the kiss when their teeth knocked together as the other had been too ecstatic with the move. San felt the vibration of his laugh; he drank it up, never breaking the kiss. The lilac haired male pried San’s mouth open wider, nibbling at his lower lip and rendering his arms weak.

The dancer put his remaining strength to his hold around the other, pulling Wooyoung down onto his lap. They broke for air, Wooyoung leaning forward to chase San’s mouth despite the burn in his lungs.

His head was filled with cotton. All San knew was that Wooyoung looked ethereal with his eyes blown out and lips a glossy red, all from his doing. San needed more.

The second kiss was much more gentle, much more tender.

Wooyoung moved  slowly  , savouring every inch he could reach.  The warmth left San melting into a puddle, mind far too muddled to worry about anything other than the sweetness against his tongue. Wooyoung tilted his head for a new angle and San knew he was so far gone.

After parting, Wooyoung’s head immediately dropped to the dancer’s shoulder.  San’s eyes  barely  opened as he pulled the male closer, trying to assure himself it wasn’t a dream, that he wouldn’t wake up the next morning alone in his bed with a phone that had no notification from Wooyoung.

“So...” the dancer began, lips curling into a smile when he felt Wooyoung’s finger playing with his hair. San’s eyes moved down  briefly, Wooyoung mirroring him.

“So,” the shorter male looked up, moving to place another kiss but San beat him to it, swerving to attack his neck.  Wooyoung squirmed as his high pitched laughter bounced across the apartment, trying to pull San away from the danger zone.

“Sannie! San- Stop!”

There was a sharp inhale as San pulled away, grinning from ear to ear when Wooyoung smacked his chest in a whine.

It wasn't a dream.

He put their foreheads together, eyes closing to soak up this new reality of his. San liked Wooyoung and he liked him back. It wasn't another dream on Sunday morning, or a dazed daydream in the middle of the day.

“So..." Wooyoung grinned, pulling San down closer, "Does this mean I can finally do gel polish on you?”

San blinked once, twice. His brain buffered for a moment before they erupted into a series of giggles. The dancer buried his face in Wooyoung’s chest, shaking his head in disbelief.

“If it means you’ll be my boyfriend? Yes.” San’s reply  was muffled by  Wooyoung’s sweater. A pair of hands pulled his face up and before he could answer, San’s mouth  was preoccupied  with Wooyoung’s lips again.

The kiss was quick and chaste; San chased for more but all he got was a finger to his lips. All the air  was knocked  out his lungs for the umpteenth time that night yet San would never complain. He couldn't.

Wooyoung rolled his eyes, failing to hide the fond smile that crept onto his face, “What colour do you want, _boyfriend_ ?”

An answer popped into San's mind but he knew,

He knew it didn't matter as long as Wooyoung was the one holding his hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess that was the end~  
> This fic started as something self indulgent and I had a lot of fun writing it.
> 
> I hope you guys enjoyed the final chapter! I'd love to hear your feedback!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading up till here!  
> I do appreciate feedback! Feel free to come holler at me on [twt](https://twitter.com/_Vxier_?s=09) <3  
> I don't bite ;D


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